


What Years May Bring

by whittler_of_words



Series: Antebellum [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, American Sign Language, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Nonverbal Frisk, reader is sans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 22:22:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5682988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whittler_of_words/pseuds/whittler_of_words
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“<i>Toriel speaking,</i>” comes a familiar voice from the other end of the line, and you watch the kid as they shift nervously on their feet.</p><p>“hey tori. you guys take in strays, right?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i've been running in circles all day without your help, is now really the time for a joke, wait don't answer that

**Author's Note:**

> takes place just around a year after nights to come

Alphys sighs heavily as she pushes away from her desk, loose papers falling everywhere with the suddenness of the movement. She looks pretty tired. But hey, that’s what staying up for three days straight will do to a gal.

“I have- good news and bad news,” she says, pinching the bridge of her nose under her glasses. You lean back in your chair and net your fingers together behind your skull.

“good news?”

“I figured out what’s wrong! And how to fix it.” She gestures with her claws as she pushes herself to the other side of the lab, her chair wheels squeaking. Her voice muffles behind a wall of papers. Draws open and shut. “It turns out that- that fusing the machine with magic was good in uh, in theory, but they’re incompatible. Physical matter like metal, and then magic, it’s like...friction. They rub against each other, and um, wear each other down, and it all breaks down eventually either way.”

“what about mettaton?” you counter. “i don’t see him comin’ in for new parts every year.”

“No, well, it- it’s different,” she says, and reemerges. The blueprints to the machine are folded up in her hands, and she spreads them out over the desk. “Mettaton acts as a sort of, uh, intermediary between the magic and the physical matter of, of his body. With him there, it all sort of, syncs up?” Her nose scrunches, and you know she’s going to be obsessing over the specifics until she can get her hands on Mettaton’s body herself. “Um. Anyway. That’s the good news.”

“so the bad news?”

“This,” she says, and points at a very specific point on the paper. A brief flare of magic pushes your chair over next to hers.

Welp.

“welp,” you say, and she sighs again.

“Yeah.” Alphys looks wearily down at the specific part her finger is poised over. “Sorry, Sans. But um, you kind of have to go. I can’t really, uh, talk to them, and I think they like you better anyway.”

You scratch your jaw. And here you were hoping to just hang around the lab and do nothing today. But the machine’s been broken for almost a month now, and the King and Queen are getting real antsy, which, hey, you can understand. If there was a soon-to-be active volcano not a couple miles away threatening your entire kingdom and you had no way to measure it, you’d be pretty tetchy too. 

Oh wait.

“guess there’s no helping it then,” you say, and stand from your chair. Alphys blinks up at you. Her eyes lag a bit behind each other. Blink, blink. You make a note to have her get some sleep when you get back. “tell g where i am if he surfaces before i’m back, will ya?”

“You’re going _now?_ ” she balks. “But it- it’s going to be late soon!”

“the sooner i get this over with the better.” You shrug. “also, i--”

“Know a shortcut,” she finishes for you, rolling her eyes. You grin. “Yeah. How could I forget. Just, um.” Her claws drum on the desk nervously. “Be careful, alright? I have my phone on me if you need anything.”

“psht. i’ll be fine. but i’ll give you a ring if something comes up.” 

She nods and rolls up the blueprint. “Good luck!”

“heh. thanks.”

She rolls back to put the prints away. You kick your own chair in the general direction of your desk before turning around towards the door, hands stuffed in your pockets. The late afternoon sun warms your bones the second you step outside. Alphys was right; it is gonna be late soon. But you have a couple hours until dark and about the same amount of time until your contact closes up shop, so it shouldn’t be a problem.

You lift a foot up from the pavement and bring it down on soft grass a good two miles away, earth and buildings and sky blinking in and out around you.

Yup. No problem at all.

You whistle as you walk. You’ve still got maybe half a mile to go from here, but it’s pretty nice out today, and despite the urgency of your reason for being out here in the first place, you’re not exactly in a huge rush to reach your destination. Things tend to get, uh. Iffy, this close to the border. It’s not really a surprise. With how tense things’ve been between the two races, the border of your towns are gonna be pretty tense places to live, too. There’s really no helping it.

But there are some places here where the residences are so smushed up against each other that there might as well be no distinction between Ebott and the human town at all. That part is pretty helpful. Especially if, for example, humans have access to metals and parts that monsters don’t, and might maybe sometimes be willing to sell ‘em for a good price.

Sometimes.

It’d taken a lot of charm to get that part for the machine the first time around.

You pass a few monsters on the way, most of ‘em walking by with the single-minded purpose of someone who has a place they need to be, but they still return your nods. Some of them even smile. It’s a miracle. It’s also getting darker, the shadows cast by the high arches of the buildings making it seem later than it actually is, but. Eh. Might as well just get it over with. You turn onto a sidestreet. You lift your foot up and

_Clang!!!_

The noise startles you enough that your foot comes down hard on the same ground you brought it up from. You turn to face the source of the noise, wondering--

Oh.

Okay. Alright then.

The human kid stares at you, frozen mid-step, the lid of the trashcan they must’ve kicked just rolling to a stop behind them. Neither of you move for a hot second. They’re small -- smaller than Chara at least, even a little smaller than you -- and their sweater has probably seen better days, but you can’t tell much else about them just yet. Not dusty. That’s important.

“uh,” you say, and they jump at the sound of your voice, and you wonder if they’re gonna bolt. They don’t move still, watching you. “you lost, pal?”

They fidget with their fingers, not saying anything. Maybe they didn’t hear you or somethin’. You’re about to repeat yourself when they nod their head, once, their shoulders slumping.

Hm. “why don’t you walk with me,” you suggest, and the kid blinks up at you. “gettin’ somewhere is less lonely when you’ve got someone with you. even if you, uh, don’t know where you’re goin’ in the first place.” They hesitate. Understandable. You shrug as disarmingly as you’ve ever shrugged before. “i don’t bite. promise.”

That, of all things, seems to reassure them. They nod and walk up closer to you, and you make a point to not look them over before grinning and heading back the way you came. The sound of their footsteps follow.

“i used to get lost all the time,” you say, not looking back at them. “i had the most awful sense of direction, lemme tell you. goin’ in circles, getting stuck at dead ends, tracing the wrong steps. all of it.” You pause for a moment as you make a turn. “whenever i got lost i’d have to call my brother papyrus to come find me and pick me up. he’d get all worried, y’know? but he’d find me every time, and he would make me spaghetti to apologize for taking so long. isn’t he cool?”

They blink when you look back at them, but they nod, a small smile on their face. You look forward again.

“heh. yeah, he’s pretty awesome.” You turn down another street. “anyway, i’m sans. sans the skeleton. i don’t usually come over to this part of town. kind of close to the border and all. plus, it’s pretty far from where i live.” You pause. “come to think of it, i should probably get heading back soon. papyrus gets real cranky when he doesn’t get his bedtime story.”

You don’t say anything else after that, giving them plenty of time to speak. They don’t. Guess they’re the quiet type, then. You’d almost wonder if they were even following you, if not for the sound of their boots crunching on the sidewalk. You’re not gonna break first, though. You’re a pretty patient guy. Especially when you want to be.

After a while, the tug on your jacket you were waiting for comes. “y’need somethin’?” you ask, looking back to them. They don’t say anything still, but they point to a tiny wares shop tucked between a couple of houses. You consider it. “it’s a shop. what about it? you wanna go in?” They shake their head and point at it again more insistently, their lips thinned into an impatient little line. “oh, you sayin’ you’ve seen it before?” you offer, because you’ve been waiting for them to point it out for ages now. They give a short little nod. “huh. now that you mention it, i think you’re right. guess that means we’ve been goin’ in circles then. oops.”

They make a face, which is about the reaction you were expecting. You laugh a little.

“heh, sorry bud. let’s try this way. guess i still get lost sometimes. but even so...” You head off in the other direction, towards the border. Time to get to the point. “it takes a lot to get lost so bad you end up in a completely different town, doesn’t it?”

The sound of their footsteps stop. Their shoulders are hunched up when you look back at them, gaze fixed on the ground. Their fingers flex at their sides.

Got ‘em.

“listen,” you start, turning to face them, “i get it. you get curious, want to see what things are like on the other side, maybe sightsee a bit and find out if things are really all that they say they are. but, uh, bucko. this isn’t exactly the place for that. the people ‘round here are real antsy, you could get hurt if you’re not careful.” You watch them, hands in your pockets. You don’t miss the way they wince just slightly. Makes you wonder if they haven’t already found that out for themselves, but, no dust, so... You sigh. “look, i was heading to the border anyway. why don’t we get you back home and--”

They snap their head up so suddenly that you cut off despite them not saying anything, and they shake their head violently enough that their hair flies everywhere as they take several fast steps back, nearly tripping. You raise your hands as placatingly as you know how.

“woah woah woah, hey, kid, no, it’s okay,” you say, and they stop, to your relief. They still look tense though, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. “it looks like you, uh. really don’t want to go back, huh?” They shake their head again. Not as hard as before, which is probably good; kind of looked like that hurt. You consider your options as they wrap their arms around themself.

You could always take the kid back anyway. It’s not like they could outrun you, what with your shortcuts and all, and it’d be the easiest option for everybody. But if they were determined enough to sneak over the border on their own in the first place, there’s no doubt they’d do it again if they wanted to. You can’t have that. They could get hurt, or they’d hurt someone else, and that’d bring up a whole series of problems no one needs right now.

Sighing again, you take out your phone and send a text to Alphys, letting her know you’re gonna be late. She replies in a matter of seconds asking if everything’s okay, and you nearly exit out before you think better of it and tell her yeah, you’re fine. something came up is all. She replies, ok, but that one you do ignore. The next number you pull up is familiar. 

“ _Toriel speaking,_ ” comes a familiar voice from the other end of the line, and you watch the kid as they shift nervously on their feet.

“hey tori. you guys take in strays, right?”

That gets you another face, and you figure, yeah, you probably deserve it.


	2. the bar may be set low but we can always dig it deeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their head swivels back and forth as they take everything in. Trees, bushes, statues, all the trinkets decorating the houses; it’s really not that interesting, but it’s not as if you’ve been any further than a couple feet into the human side of things for years now, so who are you to say. Maybe they’re just attentive.
> 
> Or maybe you’re just overthinking things.

Your phone rings seconds after the shortcut, and once you’ve confirmed the kid is just mildly disoriented instead of unconscious or puking up their guts, you accept the call and bring it up to your ear. “n’yello?”

“ _Ah, Sans,_ ” Toriel says, which is only a little suspicious considering you just talked to her two minutes ago, _“could I ask a favor of you? I’d appreciate it very much if you would take your time arriving here with the child. Chara became rather distressed when they learned you are to bring them here.”_

You stare up at the Dreemurrs’ house, the kid at your elbow. “yeah, i can do that.”

She sighs, in relief, you think. _“Thank you. Asgore and Asriel are going to take them out of the house for a bit, but it may be a while before they’ve calmed down enough to go.”_ She pauses for a moment. _“I do not think they like other humans much.”_

You let all the little unsaid implications hang on the line as you motion for the kid to follow you, turning around. “yeah. but the champ’s tough. they’ll bounce back quick.”

 _“I have no doubt of that,”_ she says, the concern in her voice entirely replaced by pride. _“Oh, and, Asgore will be taking the children out to dinner, so perhaps you’d best avoid Grillby’s as well.”_

Welp. You change course again, the kid’s footsteps halting for a moment before they hurry after you. They’re probably confused with you running around like this. You don’t blame ‘em. “got it. lemme know when they’re out to dine and i’ll _dash_ right over.”

 _“Thank you, Sans,”_ she says, and, yeah, now probably isn’t the best time for jokes anyway. _“You are very kind. I will see you soon.”_

“see ya.” You hang up, stuffing the phone in your pocket. There’s another tug on your jacket, and the look the kid gives you is an obvious question. “somethin’ came up. we’re just gonna hang around for a bit, yeah? shouldn’t be too bad. it’s a beautiful day outside.”

You wait for them to protest, or at least ask more questions or something, but they just nod, looking at you expectantly. Hm. Weird kid. You consider just walking them around in circles again, since it’s not like there are many places for a human like them to go around here anyway, but you figure they’ve probably been on their feet enough already. Leaves only one place. When you turn down the street, the kid jogs up so that they’re standing next to you instead of behind you this time, hands clasped behind their back. Their head swivels back and forth as they take everything in. Trees, bushes, statues, all the trinkets decorating the houses; it’s really not that interesting, but it’s not as if you’ve been any further than a couple feet into the human side of things for years now, so who are you to say. Maybe they’re just attentive.

Or maybe you’re just overthinking things.

You’re expecting them to dash off the second you get to the park. There’s monkey bars. Kids love monkey bars. But when you settle onto a bench facing the equipment, sinking into it as far as the wood will allow, the kid sits down with you, their hands folded in their lap. It wouldn’t be so bad if they were, you don’t know, bouncing their leg, or looking around, or something, but they just sit there patiently, staring off in the direction the sun will be when it finally sets. 

“heya,” you say, breaking the quiet, and their blank expression flickers as they blink and look over at you. “so. i’ve got a question for ya. how old’re you, anyway?”

They tilt their head just slightly, like it’s something they have to think about, but after a second they stretch out their foot. A line is traced into the sand, and then a circle.

“the big one-oh, huh?” They just shrug, looking down at the number, and then seem to make a decision. They slide off the bench until they’re crouching down next to their work, and you watch them for a moment, wondering what they’re doing. They carefully trace the inside of the one with a finger, evening out the layer of sand. A perfectionist. You can respect that.

“the one i’m taking you to meet,” you start, “toriel. she’s a good lady. real nice. loves to bake, and has an amazing sense of humor. i think you’ll like her.” They don’t look at you, too busy with their task, but you can tell they’re listening. “you’re probably wondering, uh, why exactly i’m bothering to take you to her at all, huh? well. she knows her way around real well. if anyone can figure out a place to get you situated, it’ll be her.” You were kind of thinking you’d be able to just hand the kid over and leave them there, but with Chara... Yeah. Not happening. Still. You trust her to make the right decision. “believe me, kid. she can’t be _bleat_.”

They squint up at you then, looking like they’re trying very hard not to seem confused and failing pretty bad at it.

“it’s a pun,” you explain, “because she’s, uh, a goat monster. guess you wouldn’t know.” You scratch your jaw in thought. “yeah. probably not some of my best material anyway.” They shake their head though, another small smile on their lips. You look down at them with one eye open. “what, you think it’s funny?” you ask, and they must decide their new mission is to convince you that it is, because they nod enthusiastically enough for their entire body to sort of...bounce. You appreciate the effort. Laughing a little, you lean forward in your seat. “hey, if you say so, it must be true. guess i have no choice but to keep it.”

They nod again, smiling enough when they turn back to their number thing that you don’t think it can really be described as “small” anymore. Puns. Gotta love ‘em. They always manage to lift the mood.

Your phone chooses that moment to vibrate in your pocket. Checking it reveals the text you’ve been waiting for, and the human looks up at you in question when you stand.

“yeah, bud. time to go.”

They nod, standing up and dusting off their hands on their shorts. They look over the number one last time. Just when you think that’s gonna be the end of it, they sweep a foot over the sand, covering everything up until the only evidence they were there are the little prints their boot made where it lifted up from the sand. They nod, then, the most satisfied you’ve seen them, and make their way over to you with a purpose.

It’s a “let’s go” if you’ve ever seen one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short lil transition chapter


	3. technically life is already one giant sleepover so really is this much different anyway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It smells heavily of cinnamon butterscotch before you even step into the house, fire magic and warmth you could probably taste if you breathed deeply enough, and you manage not to laugh as the kid does just that.

It smells heavily of cinnamon butterscotch before you even step into the house, fire magic and warmth you could probably taste if you breathed deeply enough, and you manage not to laugh as the kid does just that.

“knock knock,” you call, heading towards the living room, the kid trailing a little behind you.

Toriel’s voice from the kitchen. “Who is there?”

“a couple’a somebodies who can’t reach the doorbell,” you say, and her answering snort is pretty indicative of how bad that was. You check to see the kid’s reaction, but they’re too busy looking around to pay any attention to you, apparently. They can’t all be winners.

“Perhaps I should install one special, then!” she says, her voice growing louder as she approaches, and, there she is. She smiles sweet as always, first at you, then at the kid, who’s looking up at her with wide eyes. She clasps her hands together. “Greetings! I am Toriel. It is very nice to meet you. And, um, this may be an odd question, but are you allergic to anything?”

They don’t move at first, but after a second they seem to gather themself, shaking their head. Toriel beams.

“Excellent! Ah, please feel free to sit while you wait,” she says, gesturing to the table, “I will just be a moment.”

“sure thing, mon _chair_ i,” you drawl, pulling out a chair and sitting heavily. She squawks a laugh.

“Sans! Even I could tell you came up with that one by the _seat_ of your pants!” She chortles to herself, but doesn’t give you enough time to reply before she heads back to the kitchen. Probably for the best. You two can go back and forth for hours when left to your own devices, but that’s not what you’re here for today.

Speaking of.

“you gonna sit?” you ask the kid. They look from you to the doorway Tori disappeared to, and then back again. And then they grin. It’s kind of disconcerting, like they’re saying they know something you don’t- hell, they might as well be, with how many different things a grin like that can convey. You’d know. You’re a master of the expression. They hold up a finger, and you think for a second they’re gonna try to elaborate, but instead they trot over to the bookcase and flip through a few of the books. You recognize some of the covers. 72 Facts About Snails. A Brief History of Monsters. They glance back at you, like they’re afraid you’re gonna tell ‘em off or something, but you know Tori couldn’t care less about who goes snooping through her bookshelf, so you just close your eyes and wait for them to finish up.

You blink awake to the sound of a plate clinking down in front of you, which is, uh, a surprise.

“See?” Tori says, her voice lowered in a faux whisper. She’s trying not to laugh. “I told you! Bring food out and he will wake right up.”

“it’s a talent,” you say, sitting up in your chair and letting the sleep slide off your bones. There’s a slice of pie set on the table, still hot. The kid has their chin pressed down to the table, studying the healthy serving placed in front of their own seat with eyes wide as dinner plates. Heh. “it helps that your cooking could raise the dead.”

“You might as well be, for how heavily you sleep!” She wags a finger at you. She’s smiling, though, and she finally sits. “Please, dig in,” she says, though mostly to the kid you think. “This pie will not eat itself.”

That’s all the invitation they need, apparently. They attack the pastry with gusto.

“well, bone appetite, etc, etc,” you say, and for the next minute or so the only sound is the clinking of forks against plates. The kid starts sneaking glances at you about halfway through, watching you eat. Yeah. Sometimes you wonder where it all goes, too. You make a face at them. They make a face back. Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? You can feel Tori watching as you and the kid continue to make faces at each other over the dinner table. You think she might be smiling. You can’t look to check; face-making is serious business.

“Ahem,” she coughs after a minute, when it’s clear neither of you are gonna back down first. The kid’s response is to make a face at her instead. She laughs. “Hey, you silly child.” Not one to let down a friend in need, you join them, making your own face at her, and she cups her cheek with a hand, fighting a smile. “Oh, my mistake. It appears I have two children with me tonight!”

“and it took you this long to notice, huh? i’m offended.”

“You are not,” she says, not unkindly. The kid blinks when she turns to them. “Oh, child. If I may ask. What is your name?”

They shift in their chair a little. You think they’re gonna talk for a second when they open their  mouth, but if they were planning on it, they change their mind halfway through, choosing instead to bring up their hands. They make as if writing, scrawling on one open palm with the joined fingers of their other. The message is pretty clear.

“Oh! I should have paper around here somewhere...” Tori stands and goes over to the bookshelf. You pat yourself down. Should be in here if you didn’t clean out your pockets...ha. The joke’s you bothering to clean out anything. You never do that. Which, hey, actually helps out this time. You roll the pen to the kid just as Tori returns with a notebook.

“Frisk?” Tori asks once the kid’s done writing and turns the paper around so she can read. They give her a thumbs up, and she smiles. “What a wonderful name.”

“yeah, why didn’t you tell me sooner? could’ve called you something other than “kid” in my head this entire time,” you say, and they stick their tongue out at you. That’s fair.

“In any case,” she says, “Frisk,” and they look back up at her, tongue still sticking out. Her expression softens a little. Yeah. She’s hooked already. “Sans has told me you do not wish to return to the human town,” she says gently. “Is this true?”

It’s like watching a light go out. Their expression sombers instantly, shoulders tensing, all the childish energy they’d been exuding draining away until they’re left staring down at the notebook like it’s their last lifeline. They tap the pen on the table twice before they begin writing, furiously. Tori holds her hand up.

“You do not have to tell me why,” she explains, calmly. The pen stops. “If you would like to, it is your choice. But I would not ask you to share anything you are uncomfortable with. To do so would be incredibly unfair.” She places her hand back on the table. “Your past is your business. For now, all I am concerned with is your future.”

They don’t move for a second. But then they very pointedly cross a line through what they’ve written so far, and they nod, looking back up at her. She smiles.

“I unfortunately can not offer a place for you here,” she says. You don’t miss the way they look a little disappointed. You don’t blame them. “However, I do have a few people in mind. They are all very close friends, and I would trust each with my own children. In fact! There is one in particular who I think would be an excellent choice for taking you in while I get in touch with the others.”

She pauses, looking at you. You wait for her to continue. She doesn’t. You feel yourself begin to sweat. “uh. you need somethin’?”

“Sans.” She sighs. “I was talking about you.”

“oh.” Welp. Mark that down on the list of things you were not expecting to hear today. “you, uh. _really_ sure i’m the right choice for something like this?”

“You do yourself too little credit,” she says, stern in the way she gets sometimes. “They know you, and you two seem to like each other. Of course, it is your choice,” she says, this time to Frisk. “At the very least, it will be temporary until I can get in touch with someone else. But... it is late, and that may not be possible for a couple days yet.” She pauses. “Although, perhaps Undyne...”

Frisk tugs on her sleeve, and the shake their head before pointing at you. Aha. _Welp._

“guess that’s settled then,” you say, shrugging. You don’t really mind, honestly, and you know Paps will be ecstatic at the opportunity to make a new friend. It’ll be like one of Chara’s sleepovers. Except, uh, the kid’ll be pretty much entirely your responsibility, and there’s no them going home afterwards because your house’ll be the closest thing to a home they’ve got while they’re here.

Oh boy.

Frisk holds out the notebook to you. Their name is written on the first line, a few scribbled out words on the next. You peer at the third.

_thank you very much._

“hey, it’s no problem, kiddo,” you tell them, handing it back. “thank me after we’ve gotten you settled in. hope you like spaghetti.”

You mostly meant it as a joke, but they nod seriously enough you don’t think they realized it. Which you guess is good enough either way. Better than a “no”.

Then there’s shuffling from the other room. Peering through the open door from your seat, you catch sight of Asgore walking in, which is surprising. You thought he wouldn’t be back until after you left, considering. But then you get a glimpse of the bundles in his arms, suspiciously kid-shaped and snoozed out, and things make a lot more sense. He doesn’t greet you, but you hear the sound of a door opening and closing and he comes back out to join you, kid-free and smiling, and a little tired looking.

“Turns out the Canine Unit is good for more than just sentry duty,” he laughs, and, yeah, all of ‘em teamed up together would probably tire even the most energetic little snot out. Rest in peace. Asgore directs a curious look at Frisk. “And what have we here?”

“This is Frisk,” Toriel says. “Frisk, this is my husband, Asgore.” Frisk nods, looking between the two. Toriel smiles at them before turning back at Asgore. “We were just discussing their living arrangements. They will be staying with Sans while I figure out something more permanent.” She gives  him a look. It’s pretty brief, as far as looks go. You know they’re gonna be talking more about this later.

“I see,” he says, and then to Frisk, “I certainly hope you come to like it here.”

You stand, then. “if there’s not anything else to talk about, we should probably get going. it’s, uh, getting pretty late.” You give a pointed look to Frisk where they’re sitting in their chair. They’ve been hiding it pretty well so far, but it’s been getting easier to notice how their eyes’ve been drooping shut with sleep. After running around all day? Yeah, you’d be pretty tired, too.

“Oh! Of course. But, uh, one moment--” Tori stands from her chair, sweeping back into the kitchen. The kid is just standing themself when she returns, a tupperware container in hand. They take it slowly when she offers it. “A snack, for later,” she explains, and you don’t even have to look to tell it’s pie inside. Frisk looks up at her like sun. They start visibly, and turn back to the table, thrusting the notebook up at her, but Tori just laughs a little and shakes her head. “Oh, no, please keep it. It was just gathering dust on that bookshelf anyway.”

You don’t think she’s expecting it when they step forward and give her a hug. You definitely aren’t. But she reacts much more quickly than you would have anyway, returning their one-armed embrace with both of hers, and after a moment they step back, face a little more red than it was a few minutes ago. Asgore gets a solemn nod. You get another face.

You’d be lying if you said they weren’t growing on you already.

Once goodbyes have finished being exchanged, you walk back out into the cool night air, Frisk clutching their notebook and container of pie to their chest like they’re something precious. Who knows. Maybe they are. You don’t say anything. They could probably use a minute to digest everything that’s happened, and as for you? Well. The stars are nice tonight. It’d be a shame not to appreciate them while you’re here.

“c’mon,” you say, once you figure they’ve had enough time to think. “let’s get you to bed.”

They nod like that’s the best damn idea they’ve ever heard.


	4. sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will bruise far longer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _HELLO!!_ Papyrus says, jumping right into it. You’re jostled by the movement. _I AM THE GREAT P-A-P-Y-R-U-S. YOU MAY HAVE HEARD OF ME._ He poses. Frisk looks from him to you where you’re still tucked under his arm, obviously bewildered. You give them a thumbs up.

The desk lamp flickers on and off as you open the door. Gaster looks up from his papers, which is a surprise, since you figured he’d be staying at the lab like he does most nights, but he must’ve decided to come home tonight. Maybe to question you about what’s been taken you so long. Or something. You never know with the guy. He sets his pen down, but you step aside before he can start nagging at you, the grin on your face widening as he pauses. Hehe, sucker. Bet he wasn’t expecting that. 

“frisk, this is gaster,” you tell the kid as they step in after you, shivering slightly. “he’s the only one who lives here besides me and my bro.”

They nod at him, a little nervously, which, yeah, he can be pretty intimidating when you don’t know him, you guess. G squints at them. Then,

_ THAT IS NOT A SEMICONDUCTOR,  _ he signs. 

Frisk makes the first noise you’ve heard out of them, a surprised little squeak you doubt is entirely voluntary. You shrug.  _ you sure? maybe if you try squinting a little harder-- _

_ S-A-N-S,  _ he interrupts. Rude.  _ WHY IS THERE A HUMAN HERE? _

_ their name’s f-r-i-s-k. _ You can feel both of them watching you as you head over to the fridge. You pull out a bottle of ketchup, sticking it under your arm.  _ they’re gonna be staying with us for a while. i’ll tell you about it later. _

For a moment it looks like he’s gonna keep pressing the issue, but he just sighs and rubs his forehead. It’s the sigh of a man who is really tired of questioning your shit. He turns back to where the kid is still rooted in their spot by the door. A small smile crosses his face.  _ IT’S NICE TO MEET YOU, F-R-I-S-K, _ he signs. You prepare to translate.

Before you can, Frisk shifts their cargo until one hand is free, and signs,  _ You too. _

A surprised laugh leaves you before you can stop yourself. You move so you’re not standing behind the old man, your hands already moving.  _ i didn’t know you could sign. you been holding out on me? _

They make to reply before remembering their hands are full, and they glance down, frustrated, giving a little huff and depositing their tupperware of pie on top of their head. That works.  _ I didn’t think it mattered! _ they say, notebook tucked under their arm. Guess they won’t be needing that anymore. Their face turns a nice shade of ruddish brown as they continue.  _ No one else ever knows. _

_ THAT WILL NOT BE AN ISSUE HERE, _ Gaster intercepts, his features soft with sympathy.  _ MOST IN THE AREA KNOW ENOUGH TO AT LEAST HOLD A CONVERSATION. IT WAS NECESSARY FOR EFFECTIVE COMMUNICATION. _

He sniffs. The kid laughs, just a little. You can see some of the tension leave their body, and you wonder how long they’ve been wandering around, no one bothering to learn how to hear what’s probably the only voice they have. You decide not to think about it. Not now.

_ close the door, it’s cold, _ you tell them instead, and turn to head upstairs. You can hear the sound of the door clicking softly shut as you reach Papyrus’ room, hardly waiting for the sound of his answering grunt as you knock twice on his door and open it to peek inside.

“SANS!” he says at just about face-level, which is a lot shorter than usual; you attribute it to him sitting cross-legged on the floor. There are stacks of books lined up around him. “YOU’RE BACK! YOU TOOK A LOT LONGER THAN USUAL. EVEN GASTER RETURNED BEFORE YOU!”

“heh, yeah. sorry about that.” You shrug, watching as he continues slotting books back into the half-empty shelf behind him. “had something to take care of. you probably would’ve wrapped it up a lot quicker, huh.”

“OF COURSE I WOULD HAVE! THERE IS NOTHING I DO NOT DO SWIFTLY AND WITH MUCH GRACE.” He wags a book at you scoldingly before putting it back in its place. “REALLY, YOU MUST LEARN TO PICK UP THE PACE EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE.”

“what, you mean these old bones? maybe i like travelling the scenic route.” You lean against the doorframe, grinning at his exasperated snort as he picks up another book. “oh, and uh, by the way. there’s someone downstairs i think you’ll wanna meet.”

The reaction is immediate. He jumps to his feet, knocking a stack of books over in the process, and you’re already half-expecting it when he takes you by the shoulders and lifts you into the air. “SANS, WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY SO SOONER?! OF COURSE I WANT TO MEET THEM! QUICKLY, I HAVE TO GO MAKE A GOOD IMPRESSION BEFORE GASTER IS ALL WEIRD AT THEM AND WEIRDS THEM AWAY!”

“good thinking,” you say, but he already has you tucked under one arm and is dashing out the door with a particularly robust “NYEH!!!!” He skips the stairs, jumping straight off the balcony. It startles the kid out of the middle of a sign. Gaster turns around at the motion. Oops. Were you interrupting something?

_ HELLO!! _ Papyrus says, jumping right into it. You’re jostled by the movement.  _ I AM THE  _ **_GREAT_ ** _ P-A-P-Y-R-U-S. YOU MAY HAVE HEARD OF ME. _ He poses. Frisk looks from him to you where you’re still tucked under his arm, obviously bewildered. You give them a thumbs up.

_ Yes. _ They bob their head, a smile growing on their face as Pap’s eagerness starts to leak over.  _ I’m F-r-i-s-k. It’s very nice to meet you! _

_ OF COURSE IT IS! I-- HOLD ON. _ Papyrus pauses. You look up at his face. He’s squinting at them, but after a moment his eyes widen with shock. Enough shock to drop you, apparently. You roll harmlessly, facing back up so you can see what’s going on. Gaster raises an eyebrow at you from his desk. You resist the urge to flip him off while the kid is in the room.

_ YOU’RE A  _ **_HUMAN_ ** , Papyrus says, which, hey, that’s an entire week faster than last time. 

Frisk shifts a little on their feet, uneasy.  _...Is that OK? _

_OK?_ _OF COURSE IT IS NOT “OK”._ The kid’s face falls, but Papyrus continues on in a flurry before either you or Gaster can even think to get a sign in edgewise. _IT’S_ ** _EXCELLENT_** _!!! THIS WILL BE YOUR FIRST FORAY INTO THE MONSTER WORLD! I MUST SHOW YOU ALL THE THINGS THERE ARE TO DO BEFORE SOMEONE WHO’S NOT AS GOOD AS ME ATTEMPTS TO DO SO THEMSELF!! EBOTT IS A TOWN RICH WITH MONSTER CULTURE. AND I KNOW THE PERFECT PLACE TO START!!_

Frisk blinks up at his grin, the trademark overwhelmed of someone coming head to head with Pap’s enthusiasm for the first time. To their credit, it doesn’t last more than a moment.  _ Really? _

_REALLY! A PLACE OF UTMOST WONDER AND DECORUM! AND CONVENIENCE._ _BEHOLD!_ Papyrus squats, motioning over to the open doorway with a broad gesture of his arms. He pauses for dramatic affect. ... _MY KITCHEN._

The kid pads over, a measure of awe in their eyes, and you chuckle to yourself as you finally sit up. The two of them disappear into the next room, but you can still hear Papyrus’ boots stomping on the tiled floor in his excitement. Yeah. Those two’ll get along just fine.

You catch Gaster watching after them, an odd look in his eyes. It disappears when he notices you watching, a quiet frown taking its place, and you’re already expecting the words when they form in his hands.

_ CARE TO EXPLAIN NOW? _

_ not much to explain. _ You shrug, getting to your feet. Did your bones just creak? Yikes.  _ i found the lil tyke wandering around the inside of the border, took ‘em over to tori’s, and when she suggested i take ‘em in until she could find someone better they wanted to come. how was i supposed to say no to a face like that? _

You both look over to the kitchen, where the kid’s signing something excitedly in front of the stove, the thing of pie still balanced perfectly on top of their mess of hair. Gaster doesn’t verbally concede the point. He doesn’t have to.

_ YOU’LL BE GIVING THEM YOUR ROOM, _ he says, the stern set of his shoulders booking no room for argument. You snort.

_ i may be a skeleton, but i’m not heartless. ‘course i will. _

_ GOOD, _ is all he says before turning back to his paperwork. Which is as good of a “what the fuck are you waiting for then” as it gets. Fair point. Giving one last glance to the kitchen --  _ YOU SHOULD COME WITH ME NEXT TIME, I’M SURE YOU AND UNDYNE WILL BE GREAT FRIENDS!! Yes! She sounds really cool! --  _ you head up to your room, thinking everything over.

They said they were ten. And even if they were lying, if you used Chara as a reference, you’d say that’s probably not too far off the mark anyway. Which wouldn’t be a problem, except ten year olds normally don’t end up on the wrong side of a border with war brewing just over the horizon, not on accident. The easiest option to consider is that they just...ran away. Hell, you’re pretty sure every kid has thoughts about skipping out at some point or another; a time-out one minute too many, a rule too strict giving ‘em daydreams of some lawless life on the road. But that’s the catch, isn’t it. You sincerely doubt the humans have been painting monsters in something that could be called a “positive light” lately, not with how convinced a lot of ‘em are that you’re all ruthless, homicidal freaks waiting to gobble up human souls the first chance you get. So...what kid hears stories like that, and decides that’s preferable to the life they’re living now?

Which, hm. Yeah. That sure is a pickle there.

Then there’s Chara’s reaction to hearing about them, which is a whole other can of worms you don’t even want to get near. Poor Tori. She’s gotta have her hands full to bursting right now. But, she’s a smart lady. If anyone’s capable of working through all this, it’ll be her.

You mull it all over as you pick up what wrappers are scattered over your floor, changing the sheets on your bed, making sure there’s nothing the kid might find indecent lying around. By the time you get back downstairs, the kitchen has been abandoned for “QUALITY MONSTER ENTERTAINMENT”; Mettaton’s voice filters through the TV’s speakers, the lights in the living room on low. Papyrus flaps his hands just short of frantic as you make your way down the stairs.

_ SANS!!!! WHAT DO I DO?!?! _

You squint at him.  _ what? _

He doesn’t answer, just waving his hands at the lump at his side. The light from the TV changes, illuminating the lump with a muted sparkle sound effect, and you’re less surprised than you should be to see Frisk leaning against Pap’s side, eyes closed, breathing slow.

_ huh. looks like they’re asleep, _ you say, and Papyrus gives an impatient huff, his signs less broad than they would be if he wasn’t trying not to wake up the kid slowly sliding into his lap.

_ I KNOW!! BUT THAT IS THE PROBLEM! WHAT! DO! I DO!!! I DON’T WANT TO WAKE THEM UP, BUT I CAN’T JUST SIT ON THE COUCH ALL NIGHT... _

You scratch your jaw thoughtfully.  _ i dunno... maybe try picking ‘em up? _

_ THAT SOUNDS LIKE AN AWFUL IDEA!  _ he says, and he makes to continue when Frisk slides forward the rest of the way, falling into a sprawl over Papyrus’ lap, and both of you freeze, waiting. You doubt that a couple of sticks are really comfortable to be laying over for a fleshy thing like them, but even if that’s the case, it doesn’t seem to matter to them.

_ i don’t think they’re gonna be waking up anytime soon, bro, _ you tell him, biting back a laugh, because he’s starting to look legitimately nervous now and you don’t want him to think you’re laughing at him.  _ just pick ‘em up. my bed’s already made up for ‘em. _

He sets his jaw. Then, in typical Papyrus fashion, he carefully adjusts them until they’re cradled comfortably in his arms, only standing once he’s sure he’s got a good hold on them. You move ahead of him, opening the door to make for easy entry, and Pap breathes a sigh of relief when he finally sets them down on your bed. They don’t move an inch. Really tuckered out, then. He pulls a blanket over them, patting it down until it’s comfortable, and he steps back after a moment, hands clasped together by his cheek, eyes starting to glisten as he watches the kid sleep for a moment. Heh. Guess Toriel’s mom lessons have really been paying off.

_ speakin’ of sleep, _ you say, once the door is safely closed behind you,  _ how about some fluffy bunny? _

Papyrus wipes a tear from his eye.  _ I THOUGHT YOU WOULD NEVER ASK _ .

  
  
  


Most people, when asked, would probably describe you as a heavy sleeper. It’s what you do best, really. Then again, most people don’t know  _ why _ , which is how you like it, and you’re not about to correct them in either case.

You wake to the sound of a door clicking softly shut. No one in the house closes doors like that.

You don’t move, keeping your breathing as slow as it ever is, not bothering to open your eyes; the quiet shuffle of tiny feet making their way down the stairs is telling enough of who it is. A step creaks under their weight, and you hear them pause. Third step down closest to the banister; gets ‘em every time.

When no one comes after them, they continue their descent. The shuffling stops just in front of the couch. You’re not expecting the hands patting around your blanket, but you can tell they’re still trying to not wake you up, so you continue to play dead, more curious about what they’re doing than anything. Whatever they’re looking for, you don’t think they find it; they move past the couch, shuffling turning into muted taps as they tiptoe into the kitchen. Yellow light floods your closed eyelids. Ah. Just looking for a midnight snack, then.

Except-- oh. Shit, kid, no, you are not equipped to deal with this.

You sit up, all pretenses of sleeping gone, but Frisk doesn’t notice, too busy curled up on the floor in front of the fridge burying their face in their knees. You have no idea what set them off, but you can hear them making sad little crying noises and trying very hard not to be loud about it.

Uh.

“uh,” you say, and Frisk jerks a little like you surprised them, but otherwise doesn’t look up, just curling a little tighter into themself. “what’s wrong, kiddo?” you ask, because you really don’t wanna have to deal with this but Pap would never forgive you if he found out you’d just left them crying on your kitchen floor without at least trying to fix this. You consider, briefly, going to get him, since he’d probably be better at whatever  _ this _ is anyway, but then you remember you’re the one who agreed to this whole thing in the first place. Damn.

“you, uh. not a fan of midnight spaghetti?” you prompt, which just earns you another sniffle. Not that you were really expecting that to be it, but... You sigh a little as you sit across from them on the floor. “c’mon, frisk. talk to me.”

They don’t move, and you don’t say anything, more than willing to wait them out. Hell, it’s practically your specialty at this point. For a while, the only sound is the clock on the far wall ticking the seconds by, the fridge thrumming next to you both, and finally Frisk sniffs again, unlocking their hands from around their legs.

_ Pie, _ is all they say, the sign shaky and small, and you’d ask Asgore to introduce his trident to your face if he was here right now.

“oh, is that all?” you say, voice light as you get to your feet, walking over to the counter. “we got this dog that likes to break into the house and steal pap’s bone attacks all the time, so we figured we’d put it somewhere dog-proof just in case. see?” You reach into said dog-proof cabinet, which is high enough that you need to use your magic to open the door, and when you turn back around with the tupperware of pie in your hands you can just see Frisk’s eyes where their face is tucked behind their arm. Their hands twitch. You think maybe they were about to say something, or reach to take the pie, but they don’t move until you hold it out to them.

_ Thank you, _ they sign, clutching it close to their chest. Their face is dry. The redness of their eyes betrays them.

“don’t mention it.” You hold a hand out to them. “c’mon. that floor isn’t very comfortable to camp out on. i speak from experience. let’s get you settled back in, yeah?”

Their hesitation is noticeable, but after a moment they give a little nod, placing their hand in yours, and let you help pull them to their feet. 

And then they don’t let go. Which. Hm. Yeah. Alright.

You creep past Pap’s and Gaster’s doors without incident. Your room is near pitch black like it usually is when you get back into it, and you wonder for a moment if you should’ve asked Frisk if they’re afraid of the dark, but they just rub their eyes tiredly when you manage to flip on your barely used night light. They blink at the soft cascade of colors cast against the walls. 

“pretty neat, huh?” You pat the bed, and they finally let go of your hand as they maneuver themself under the covers. “found it in the garbage. kind of sad the things people will just throw away. their loss.”

Frisk nods. They’re looking down at the tupperware, fingernails picking absently at the lid. You make to move away when they bring a hand up.

_ Sorry. _

You pause. “for what?”

_ Crying, _ they say, glancing at you before looking away.  _ I didn’t mean to wake you up. _

“hey, you’ve got nothin’ to apologize for,” you tell them, moving back so you’re kneeling by the bedside. “papyrus is always telling me i sleep too much anyway, and he’s never wrong about stuff like that. besides. you don’t gotta apologize for getting upset, ya dig?”

They don’t say anything, still looking down at their pie, and you wonder for a moment if maybe you said the wrong thing, because hell knows last time you tried to comfort a human kid all you got was a punch to your jaw for the trouble. But hey. There’s an idea.

“y’know, now that i think about it,” you start, Frisk glancing over at you, “i usually have a midnight snack right about now anyway, and some hot chocolate is soundin’ pretty good.” You wink. “we’ve got some of those tiny little marshmallows. waddya say?”

They just look at you for a second. Like you’re a puzzle that keeps giving them the run-around, or just some really weird guy they’re not sure how to feel about. It’s a look you’re familiar with. But then they nod, sitting up, and you chuckle a little as you get to your feet.

“cool. it’ll take a minute to make up, so just come down when you’re ready, yeah?”

They nod again, looking almost grateful, and you know you made the right call. You head back out probably more quietly than you really need to; Paps is either out on night patrol or listening to music, and G can’t hear either way. But it’s the thought that counts.

You wouldn’t have heard them come down yourself if not for the sound of their feet dragging on the carpet. You grin, despite yourself. Guess it doesn’t get ‘em  _ every _ time then. “good timing,” you tell them as they step inside the kitchen. “the water’s just starting to boil. you got a sixth sense or somethin’?”

They just skip over to the counter, grinning like nothing happened. The pie’s nowhere to be seen. Heh. Probably doesn’t matter much either way.

“how many ‘mallows you want,” you ask. Frisk furrows their eyebrows, looking between the two cups and the bag set out on the counter. They hold up five fingers.   
“weak,” you drone, and are rewarded with the sound of their muffled laughter as you dump half the bag into their cup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait! i ran into some computer problems so this took a little while to complete, but i hope this chapter makes up for it!


	5. promises aren't empty if you mean them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A text is waiting for you early the next morning, a cheery _Hello, Sans! How are things?_

A text is waiting for you early the next morning, a cheery _Hello, Sans! How are things?_

You send a video of the things instead of texting back, Frisk sitting on the counter furiously stirring a bowl of pancake mix while Papyrus beats a couple of eggs into submission. Neither of them notice you. You get a wall of smiley emoticons for your efforts.

Ten minutes and half a breakfast later you get another text. You look at it under the table. You’ve got a kid in the house, it wouldn’t do to teach ‘em bad manners, right? 

_*Do you have anything planned for today?_

You squint at your phone for a moment. That seems like a question that’s supposed to have a correct answer to it, but if there is one, it’s not coming to mind. Haha, mind. 

_*nope. why you askin?_

_*One moment, please! Someone would like to give you a message. ]:)_

Well. Alright then. You shove your phone back in your pocket and shovel a forkful of eggs into your mouth while you wait. It doesn’t take long. You only have enough time to tune back into the conversation happening in front of you (something about....suplexes. Maybe) when it buzzes again.

* _Howdy, sans! Could you please ask frisk if they want to play at the park today? I would really like to meet them. Also, tell papyrus hi for me! -Asriel._

Grinning to yourself, you glance up, working on the rest of your breakfast as the conversation in front of you continues. Frisk is turned away from their half-empty plate almost completely, signing to Papyrus ( _Dogs? Really??_ ) and you knock on the table as you stand, your own empty plate in your hands. They blink over at you.

“you done with that?” you ask, pointing to Frisk’s breakfast. They nod. “cool.” You reach for their plate. “i’ll just clean up, then--”

The noise they make at that would’ve been enough to give you pause, but they practically snatch the plate from the table before your fingers can get close. _I’ll do it!_ they say, standing from their chair and taking your plate before you can protest, stacking it under theirs as they turn to Papyrus. _Are you done?_

“WHY, I AM,” he says, scratching his jaw. “BUT YOU ARE A GUEST! IT’S THE HOST WHO SHOULD BE CLEANING, LIKE ME OR SANS, NOT YOU!”

_No, it’s OK! I like to clean._ They look up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. Oh kid. That’s not fair. Papyrus’ own expression wavers under the assault. _Please...?_

“WELL...” he sighs. “IF YOU REALLY DO ENJOY IT, THEN I SUPPOSE... IT WOULD MAKE ME AN EVEN WORSE HOST TO DENY YOU SUCH AN ACTIVITY!”

They grin, signing a quick _Thank you_ as they move in to take his plate, too, and you laugh a little at the sound of them bouncing over to the kitchen. Guess you should’ve expected this. You’re not really surprised they wanna help, at least.

“asriel says hey,” you tell him, holding up your phone a little in explanation. His eyes light up.

“TELL HIM I SAY HELLO IN RETURN! AND I HOPE HE HAS A WONDERFUL DAY!!”

“got it.” You start typing, leaning against the back of a chair. “you goin’ to undyne’s today?”

“OF COURSE! WE HAVE A TRAINING SESSION PLANNED. IT IS VERY EXCITING.” He cackles to himself softly, standing from his chair and tucking it back under the table. “BUT I WAS THINKING OF BRINGING FRISK ALONG! I’M SURE THEY AND UNDYNE WOULD BE GREAT FRIENDS.”

You hum and shove your phone back in your pocket. “that’s an awesome idea, bro. but, uh, i might end up taking ‘em somewhere today myself if they feel up to it. you wouldn’t mind waiting until later to initiate hang-outs if they say yes, would ya?”

Papyrus gives you a stern look. “IT’S NOT HANG-OUTS. IT IS VERY IMPORTANT SPECIAL TRAINING TIME.” He pauses. “BUT I WOULDN’T MIND AT ALL! THERE’S ALWAYS TOMORROW. AND THE DAY AFTER THAT. AND THE DAY AFTER-- WAIT A SECOND. I’M RUNNING LATE!!!” He clutches his head in horror. “I GOT SO DISTRACTED WITH BREAKFAST I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT THE TIME!!”

You don’t even need to look at the clock. “pretty sure you’re still early, bro.”

“I’M RUNNING LATE TO BEING EARLY!” is all he says before he bolts for the stairs. “I HAVE TO GET CHANGED! AND FEED YOUR ROCK! AND BRUSH MY HAIR--”

You shake your head a little as his door slams closed. Your brother, huh? You don’t know anyone else who takes things like that so seriously. It’s really admirable.

A knock from the kitchen draws your attention over to the doorway, and you look to see Frisk leaning around it. _Where do the plates go?_

“here. i’ll show ya.”

Sure enough, the plates are spotless when you step over to show the kid where they go. “good job, bucko,” you say, holding one at an arm’s length so you can appreciate it properly. “look at that sparkle. makes me feel bad knowing it’s only gonna get dirty again next time it gets used. maybe we should frame it.” They don’t dignify that with a response, just sticking their tongue out at you. “your face’ll get stuck like that if you’re not careful,” you laugh, opening up one of the cabinets you _can_ reach, “we just stick ‘em in here. silverware goes in the drawer over there, but uh, looks like you already figured that out.”

They nod, brows furrowed. Looks like Pap’s not the only one who takes things seriously around here after all. 

“so,” you say when they step up to hand you the next two plates. “i have a proposition for ya. you remember the park from yesterday?” This time their eyebrows draw together in a question. They just nod, though, waiting for you to get on with it. “well. one of tori’s kids is really excited to meet you. he wanted to know if you’d be down with a little playdate at that park, so i said, sure, i’ll ask. so this is me asking.” You close the cabinet, leaning against the counter and winking at them. They mostly just look a little confused. 

_One of...Toriel’s kids?_

“yep. he and pap are real close, so i know him pretty well. he’s a good kid from what i’ve seen.” You shrug. “you don’t gotta go if you don’t want to, though. it’s your call.”

They think about it for maybe two seconds before they nod again. Thinking about it yourself, it didn’t take very long for them to decide they wanted to come with you, huh? Guess someone’s pretty quick about making up their mind. You can respect that.

“cool,” you say, pushing yourself off the counter and nodding your head towards the living room. Frisk follows you out. “i know you were pretty tired yesterday, so if you feel like it, why don’t you get yourself cleaned up while i let them know the plan’s a go? or not. i don’t judge.”

_I don’t have any clothes,_ they say, giving you a look.

“what, you think i forgot?” They way their eyebrows raise is totally a yes, something like that Sans, thanks. “rude. i know what i’m doing. sometimes.” You pause. “occasionally. _anyway._ i have some stuff that might fit you, and there’s more than enough time to run your things through the wash before we go. how’s that sound? am i good responsible adult or what?”

They tap their chin thoughtfully, a serious look on their face. _I give it an 8 out of 10. Good idea, poor timing._

You laugh. “geeze, if i knew i was gonna get graded on this, i would’ve studied first.”

_Always come prepared,_ they say, their mock seriousness broken as a grin splits across their face. 

Ten minutes later you’ve got the kid set up with a set of old clothes that look about their size and pointed towards the shower. You settle onto the couch, making sure you’re not too comfortable. Wouldn’t do to fall asleep; you’ve still got some things to take care of.

_*frisk said yes. might take a bit getting ready tho._

_*Oh, that is quite alright. Tell them they may take as much time as they need!_

_*will do. *remind me to take em shopping. kid doesn’t have any clothes. some of my stuff’ll fit but they should probably have something other than hand me downs to wear._

_*That might just be a good idea._

_*heh. glad i inspire so much confidence._

_*Oh, hush. ]:P_

Frisk’s clothes are folded in front of the bathroom door when you go to check. Seems kinda unnecessary, since they’re just gonna get unfolded in the wash anyway, but you can appreciate the effort. You make your way down to the laundry room with the bundle in your arms. You chuck the sweater in (these don’t have any special washing instructions, do they?) and check the jeans; you don’t know how many times you’ve almost broken the poor machine forgetting you left something or the other in your pockets.

Wait. Uh. ...Huh. 

That sure is sticky.

Squinting, you turn the pocket inside out. The fabric sticks together, and when you bring your fingers up to your face, something gooey schlips between the bone. At least the smell is familiar. 

_*hey tori. you got any ideas why the kid’s pockets would be full of syrup?_

You’re already downstairs again by the time she replies.

* _Forgive me for answering a question with a question. But, what did you have for breakfast this morning?_

That’s easy. Milk, eggs, and pancakes-- ohhh.

_*ah. hm._

_* now that i think about it, they did get kinda weird when i tried to take their plate to clean up. and last night when they couldn’t find their pie. kid got real upset._

_*I see...Chara was much the same way at first. They would often hide the food they didn’t eat in their pockets when they thought no one was looking. I think they still do sometimes._

_*..._

_*Sans. I do not like this._

Anyone else would probably think she’s talkin’ about what the kids are doing. You’ve known her long enough that you know better. The water shuts off upstairs.

_*I just. What are they doing to their children that they feel the need to protect themselves like this? It is not fair!_

_*you’re right. it isn’t._

_*they’re here now though. nothin’s gonna hurt em while they’re here._

_*we’ve got their backs, yeah?_

_*...You are right. Though I am afraid that will not stop me from worrying._

_*you? stop worrying? heh, good one._

_*I know! A funny thought, is it not?_

_*it’s got me up in stitches._

_*ok, i think frisk is almost ready. i’ll see you soon._

_*Not if I see you first! Hee hee. ];)_

“nice clothes.” You wink at Frisk where they’re idling at the top of the stairs, hands tucked into the pockets of a familiar pair of sweatpants. “whoever picked ‘em out has good taste.”

They roll their eyes and make their way down. The shirt hangs a little loose on them, but they don’t seem to mind, and you’re not gonna make a big deal out of it if they don’t. It has “pants” written on it in a completely random font. They stop in front of the couch, head tilted forward in a question.

“yeah, feel free, bucko.” You pat the seat next to you. They sit a little farther than that, curled up against the armrest, but when they tuck their knees up to their chest they turn so that they’re facing you. “your clothes should be done soon,” you tell them before they can ask, “i’d give it another five. hope you don’t mind.”

They shake their head. _Fast,_ is all they say. You shrug.

“technology, right? the future is now. actually, uh, g is the official royal scientist. guess you could say it comes with some perks.”

Their mouth forms a little _o._ Guess someone’s impressed. You laugh, sinking back into your seat. It probably sounds pretty cool from where they’re sitting; they don’t need to know about all the late workweeks or sleepless binges or high-scale disastrous volcanoes. Heck, or even the failed “prototype” trinkets Alph and G’ve shoved on you when they could get away with it. That’d just spoil the mood. You couldn’t have that. If they stick around for a while, they’ll more than likely find it out for themself. Might as well let them think it’s cool while they can...

You jump a little at the sound of the machine beeping upstairs. Frisk waves their hands at you.

_You fell asleep._

“heh. yeah. i do that.” You shake your head, stretching as you stand. Frisk hops off the couch. “uh, that said, don’t feel bad about waking me up if you need to. i get plenty of rest already.” They give you a thumbs up when you grin at them. 

Their clothes radiate warmth when you take them out of the machine. Technology is amazing. They hug the bundle to their chest when you hand it to them. Gotta love that fresh laundry feel.

“go ahead and get dressed,” you tell them, “we can go when you’re ready.”

You stop by the bathroom instead of going back downstairs. The air’s still a little humid, and the mirror’s kinda fogged up, but as far as you can tell, everything is right where it was before they got in here. Well. Mostly. The towels that had been crumpled up by the sink for as long as you can remember are folded neatly on top of the toilet. Huh. Maybe the kid just really likes folding things. You’re not gonna complain.

Welp. Might as well grab what you came in here for.

Rapping on the door to Frisk’s room, you lean against the frame. “hey, buddy, you decent?”

That gets you an answering hum, and you bob your head a little to the sound of Frisk’s feet coming up to the door. They’ve got their jeans and boots on, but the pants shirt is still donned in all its glory. Heh. That one never gets old. 

“here.” You hand them the box, and they take it from you, confused. “keep it. paps and i don’t exactly need it since we, uh, don’t have any skin.”

They turn the box over and pause at the red cross painted on the lid. A hand goes to the dirty bandage wrapped around their arm, as if to cover it up, but it’s too late for that and they know it, if the way their face reddens is any indication.

“you, uh, know how to use it?” It’s funny that you ask, because it’s not like you know how to yourself, but it’d be kind of a sucky move to give them all this if they can’t even use it for what it’s meant. They nod, though, not meeting your eyes.

“cool. come down whenever you’re ready.” You wink one last time, to ease the tension. They close the door.

Overall, you’d say you’re handling this whole parenting thing pretty well.

 

Toriel brought a parasol, even though you don’t have skin and she has fur and monsters don’t get sunburn either way, but the sun is high and bright enough that you’re a glad you don’t have to squint at everything with the sun in your eyes. There’s a book in her lap. Her thumb plays between the pages where a little bookmark with a snail on top has marked her place. She hasn’t opened it. Her gaze follows the kids where they’re huddled up together under the slide; you can see Frisk’s shoulders moving as they sign, but you can’t tell what either of them are saying from your spot on the bench. You’ll probably never know. That’s cool.

“any luck?”

“Hm?” She looks over at you like she has to tear her gaze away, distracted. You smile at her for the trouble.

“finding somebody. not that i’m, y’know, in any rush to get rid of the kid, but... it’s good to have options.”

“Oh. Well.” She sighs. You can relate. “Undyne was...hesitant when I asked her, to put it lightly. She would not disobey a direct order if it came to that, but I would not put the child in a home where they are ultimately unwanted. The Dogi got back to me this morning saying they would be happy to take them into their care as long as they, erm, smelled nice. But I have yet to hear back from anybody else. In truth... There are not many people that I trust to ask in the first place.” She looks back to the kids; they’ve abandoned the underbelly of the slide for the top of it, and Frisk clambers up to the top with hardly any difficulty at all. “Caring for humans is different than caring for monsters. Especially human children. Considering the lack of...positive interaction between our races recently, I am afraid that the number of monsters who would understand them in the ways they need are...limited.”

She sighs again. You kinda want to pat her hand, but that’d be awkward. 

“You do not mind this all for now, do you?” she asks, looking back to you with painfully genuine concern etched into her face. You look away.

“nah, ‘course not.” Asriel’s glaring at the slide; his claws keep slipping on the plastic, making it impossible for him to climb up from the bottom. It’s kind of funny. “it’s a little confusing here and there, sure, especially when they throw me a curveball i wasn’t expecting, and, uh, i’m sure they’ll throw me a few more. but they’re a nice kid.” They hold out a hand as you watch, bracing themself against the equipment, and grab onto Ariel’s wrist to help him climb. You catch them grinning at each other before they turn to slide back down again. Quick way to prove your point, at least.

“I am glad to hear it.” She goes back to the kids. You relax a little despite yourself. “Still... Know that I am here to help if you ever find yourself out of your depth. Even I sometimes wonder if I am not cut out for all of this.”

“what, you?” You peer at her out of the corner of one open eye. “let’s face it, tori. if anyone knows what they’re doin’ here, it’s you.”

“Such confidence!” Her chuckle peters off, weak and a little forced. “I suppose I have to be.”

Welp, this is getting uncomfortably into emotions you don’t know how to handle. You may be fine stumbling your way through the occasional pep talk, but, uh, some territory is better left unexplored. Like this. Time to engage evasive maneuvers.

“so, uh, alphys,” you say, scratching your jaw. You can see her looking at you in your peripheral, utterly confused. Gotta love that subject change. “she told me she’d have mettaton go with her to get the stuff we need to fix the machine. they should be getting back to the lab right about now.”

“You figured out what’s wrong with it.” She sinks into the seat a little, a tension you barely even noticed leaving her shoulders. “Oh, I’m so glad. When will it be fixed?”

“tonight, if everything goes well. tomorrow if it doesn’t. trust me, you’ll know the second it comes back online.”

“Thank you.” Her voice is heavy with gratitude. “I can’t express how much this means to me. To us.”

“hey, it’s cool. we’re just doin’ our jobs.” You wink at her, mostly because you’re not sure what else to do. She doesn’t seem very impressed.

“Nonsense. The fact remains that without all of your work, we would still be going about our lives completely unaware of what lies ahead of us, with no way to prepare. Does that not deserve thanks?”

Doesn’t seem very worth it, if you’re all just gonna die anyway. Your mind goes back to the blueprints in the lab, machines to channel energy you’ll probably never have the chance to get near, machines you’ll probably never get the chance to build at all. Just goes to show. Casualty’s a fuck. Not like you’d actually say that though. 

“...heh. yeah. guess you’re right.”

“We will be fine.” Her voice is firm. She’s not looking at you, eyes locked on the kids chasing each other across the grass. Frisk stumbles but catches themself. Asriel is panting hard when he catches up to them. Both of them are smiling. An elbow nudges your shoulder, and when you look up at her, she’s smiling, too. “I will not accept anything else.”

After a second, you smile back. Not that you aren’t always smiling, but. You’re pretty sure she can tell.

“you’re amazing, y’know that? i don’t know how you do it.”

“It helps to have my family behind me,” she says, not missing a beat. “I think you know what that’s like.”

You think of Papyrus. You think of Gaster, and Alphys, and Undyne. Without really meaning to, you think of Frisk. You laugh. Today is just full of surprises, isn’t it?

“yeah. yeah, you’re right, ‘course you’re right. we’ll be fine.”

Asriel runs up, Frisk right behind him. They’ve made flower crowns out of daisy chains while you weren’t looking, and Asriel grins as he hands a bigger one to his mom.

“Why, this is lovely!” she says, placing it on top of her head. “I will cherish it.”

Frisk holds another one of their own out to you. “aw, for me?” you say, grinning. “ya shouldn’t have.” You bend your head down, though, and they drop it carefully on top of our skull. It slips when you sit back up, a flower falling over an eye. You pose in your seat. “how do i look?”

They grin. _Beautiful,_ they say. For once, you have to agree.

 

That night, when the kids are tuckered out and everyone is asleep, you sit at the table and look up the best ways to preserve flowers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bonus: here's [frisk in the clothes sans gave them](http://beforuskanaya.tumblr.com/post/140655538928/spoilers-for-the-next-chapter-of-antebellum), if you'd like to see the pants shirt in all its illustrated glory.
> 
> that said, if there are any situations or characters you'd like to see me explore, please feel free to drop a comment or message me on tumblr! i want to explore some other things first before i get into Heavy Plot Stuff, so any ideas would help me a lot.
> 
> thank you for reading!!


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